It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

It’s a neighborly day in this beautywood,
A neighborly day for a beauty,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

So let’s make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we’re together, we might as well say,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won’t you be my neighbor?

…

This used bookstore sits on a corner a couple blocks from our apartment. The first time we drove past it (while apartment hunting), I thought that surely the windows were just a clever display of controlled chaos designed to lure people into the shop. When I rounded said corner a month later (oh! that’s where that shop is! who knew it was so close by!), I was fully expecting to find well ordered shelves. I was delightfully wrong. The inside is exactly like the outside: cluttered, musty, and winsome. Pyramids of books lurch into the shoulder width aisles.

Further down the block, I had to stop and admire the artful arrangement of smooth river rocks, broken concrete, and knobbly tree trunks. Something about it makes me think of an urban fairy tale.

“This is a no kill parking spot. Help stop dogs dying in hot cars. Thanks.” Thanks to the creative medium of this public service announcement, I guarantee you I’ll be watching for dogs in parked cars. I wonder what other causes could benefit from such creativity?

Finally, someone should write a children’s book for this poor lost bunny.

What interesting things have you noticed in your neighborhood recently?

Baby-tidian and I encountered this scene on our morning walk. The draw was not roadkill as I had expected, but a busted open tray of raw ground beef.

Aside from making me desperately want to invest in a telephoto lens, moments like this also serve to remind me of my place. I am not all there is. I am not the only one who eats. I am not the be-all-end-all of creation. As startling as it is to come across it while surrounded by sidewalks, front doors, and mailboxes, the truth still stands that all death breeds life.

It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

It’s a neighborly day in this beautywood,
A neighborly day for a beauty,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?

So let’s make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we’re together, we might as well say,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won’t you be my neighbor?

…

Walks this time of year are a study in contrasts. The streets are littered with still bright leaves while the skies are often murky. While most trees have long since let go of their leaves, a few clutch at them like a child who refuses to take off her tiara at bedtime. They are beautiful in their stubbornness.

The allure of decoration is widely heeded though. Everyone from the neighbors down the street to the cacti are getting their jolly on.